


Exquisite Churches

by The_Son_of_Dathomir



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Not Good Kamski, Bottom Connor, Duplicate Connor Models, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Kamski Test (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 02:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16652830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Son_of_Dathomir/pseuds/The_Son_of_Dathomir
Summary: Desperate for a lead on their on-going investigation, DPD Lt. Anderson and android RK800 "Connor" enlist help from the founder of CyberLife himself, the enigmatic Elijah Kamski.But when Kamski offers Connor a deal that he can't refuse, Connor learns more about deviating than he bargained for...





	Exquisite Churches

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome. Please look at those tags again if you haven't. Connor is in for a terrible time and Kamski is a terrible person. Nothing about this is fun or romantic, Kamski is a billionaire with a God complex and has access to Connor's override codes. It doesnt turn out well. 
> 
> But if you are ready for some pondering on what it means to be human, feel pain and experience pleasure- please read on!

“Chloe, would you show the Lieutenant to the records room? You are welcome to any of the information you find pertinent to your investigation.” Kamski gestured to the Chloe from earlier.

“Not that that isn’t generous- but we really came here to speak with you, Mr. Kamski.” Hank was admirably holding his professionalism together.     

“While I’m _flattered_ you think I somehow hold the secret to deviancy, I assure you if I knew anything I would have already contacted CyberLife or the police.” Kamski considered Hank for a moment, and then Connor. “Though I have to say, seeing as you’ve come all the way here, I would love to spend some time with your RK800 model- Connor, right?”

Connor caught Hank’s glance, maybe suspicious, maybe just annoyed. Connor couldn’t tell.  

“No offense Mr. Kamski. But Connor is uh- working, right now. On the clock, you know? I’m sure you can pick one up yourself at the CyberLife store.” Hank turned to walk away and follow the Chloe, but Kamski interrupted.

“Far from it, Lieutenant. Connor is a unique model, and the last project I worked on at CyberLife. I never got to see him in action. We could only test him in lab controls and I’m _fascinated_ to see how he has developed under field conditions...” If Kamski had been feigning indifference to Connor earlier, he had given up, openly staring at him now.

“Right...” Hank mumbled, then grabbed Connor by the shoulder. “Connor, can I talk to you for a moment.”   

None-too-subtly Hank yanked Connor a few feet away, turning away so Kamski couldn’t hear them talk.

“I don’t like it,” Hank grumbled, “he knows something.”

“I would agree. Facial tics suggest he is hiding something, I think it is worth staying to find out what.” Connor considered a moment. “He seems... fascinated by me. That gives me an advantage. You should go to the record room, maybe Kamski will open up to me?”

Hank blinked at him, like Connor had accidently started speaking Japanese instead of English. Which Connor was fairly certain he hadn’t. He checked his settings, to be sure.

“Are you dumb?” Hank barely kept his voice at a conspiratorial level.

“No?” It was Connor’s turn to blink, starting an internal diagnostic just in case. But Hank was clearly not listening.

“I am not leaving you alone with that creep. I don’t know what he wants, but I don’t like this.”

“Lieutenant, I am programmed to crisis negotiate with armed and violent killers. I assure you I will be fine with Mr. Kamski.”

Hank glowered at him, unsettled for reasons Connor couldn’t decipher.

“One hour- you get one hour. I don’t trust this bastard...”      

“Got it.” Connor nodded solemnly for Hank's benefit. Surely the Lieutenant was overreacting. What was the worst that could happen in an hour?

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Hank laughed turning back to Kamski, his demeanor completely changed, “if your pretty lady wouldn't mind showing me to those records, I'd like to get started going through them.”

“Of course, just follow Chloe, she will show you the way.” Kamski smiled and nodded to the Chloe model, who returned the gesture.

“Great, thanks.” Hank started to walk away and Connor turned to follow before Hank stopped him. “Connor, you stay here and keep Mr. Kamski company. I have actual detective work to do.”

“Alright, Lieutenant,” Connor monotoned. He thought he sounded convincing, but the quick eye roll Hank shot at him suggested otherwise.

Chloe whisked Hank away, and the door behind them shut with an unsettling thump. Leaving Connor alone with his his creator.

With nothing left, Connor turned to face Kamski, who was about three feet closer than Connor had anticipated. Odd that he hadn't heard him move.

“Mr. Kamski,” Connor said brightly, “what can I do for you?”

But Kamski absently shushed him, looking him up and down, slowly pacing the floor around Connor to see him at all angles. Connor automatically idled the way he would if he was in a shop window. Not that _he_ had ever been in a shop window, but it was practically second nature to all androids. When not actively doing something, it was natural to fall back on.

“So, it’s ‘Connor’ now?” Kamski laughed to himself, wandering back into Connor's field of vision.

“CyberLife registered my name before my first assignment. I have been ‘Connor’ since this model was activated.” Connor had never considered what he was called before this, and had only fragmented memories of anything prior to being _Connor._ “Did you know who I was before that?” It was an impulsive question, but perhaps it was an opening to Kamski speaking of his time at CyberLife...

Kamski was now head on with him again, eyes finally finding their way to Connor's face, and sticking when he met his eyes.

“ _Erômenos_ ,” Kamski smiled, “that was what I called your earliest form. My greatest work, my final passion project. It seemed fitting. For the first half you were just an AI in a computer. But I knew that I couldn't teach you like that. Sure, I could _program_ you, but to integrate with humans you needed a body.”

Connor watched almost disconnected as Kamski reached out and touched his face. Warm human fingers a dull sensation through Connor's own fake skin.

“We decided on your form early on- you look exactly the same.”

“Thank you.” The words sounded off as soon as he said them, but all of Kamski's statements were so strange and Connor knew he had to respond with _something._

“Ah, you still do that,” Kamski brushed his thumb along Connor's jawline before finally letting go. “I told them you needed less restrictive social protocols. But I suppose you are still a prototype.” Kamski took a few steps back, giving Connor a final look up and down.

“Mr. Kamski, if we could discuss-”

“Quiet,” Kamski said, the nostalgic affection from before gone.

But what surprised Connor wasn't the sudden change in attitude, it was that with a single word, Connor found he _could not speak._ This was more than an order from a human, a direction that caused the red walls that guided his life. This wasn't a programming he could override given the need- this was his mechanical throat and lungs _shutting down._

It was a terrible sensation and Connor was sure the distress reached his face. He looked to Kamski, only to find him smiling again.

“I was curious to see if CyberLife would find and scrub my override. Guess not.” Kamski snapped and Connor could feel his dead systems jolt to life again. His hand shot to the thirium valve on his chest, as the delicate biocomponents around it stuttered and seized back to life.

Kamski was still talking and Connor strained to listen through the stream of systems check his body was running after the unexpected partial shutdown.

“I always voice lock my projects. I wouldn't be a very responsible engineer if I couldn't control my creations.” Kamski winked and Connor tried to smile receptively. “But, I digress. You wanted to know about deviants didn't you?”

Connor narrowed in his focus, pushing down the clamoring warnings and unwanted thoughts. This is what he was here for.

“Yes, Mr. Kamski. The investigation has reached a dead end, you are our last lead- if you know anything that could help...”

Kamski held up a hand and Connor was quick to shut up before his lungs were turned off again.

“It seems we both want information then. Perhaps a trade is in order?”

“What would you like to know, Mr. Kamski?” Connor tried to keep the puzzlement out of his voice, but it was hard to imagine what he might know that Kamski didn't already.

“I want to know how my _erômenos_ turned out. If I taught you correctly, if you have become what I always hoped you would.” Kamski smiled again, almost fondly. “Your lab tests were so promising. I would love to run one right now.”

Connor hesitated but then asked, “And if I let you run this test you will...?”

“I will answer any of your questions about deviants or CyberLife, or whatever you choose to ask me,” Kamski put a hand on his own chest, “I swear.”

The moment hung as Connor considered. His social scripts urged him to consult Lieutenant Anderson, but he didn't want to let their first break slip by.

“Alright. Agreed. How would you like me for this test?”

CyberLife performed tests with immense gyroscopic machines and entire labs for simulating environments. But this could be as simple as an uplink via his hand to Kamski's computer.

“Well, to start, I would like you to follow me.” Kamski grinned at him a final time before turning and walking towards a door Connor had not yet seen open.

Connor followed politely, leaving behind the strange room with the red pool.

Only to find himself somewhere equally odd.

The door shut solidly behind him, the faint buzz of electronic locks told Connor he would not be getting out that way without Kamski's permission.

It was a large dimly lit room that ought to be full of warmth. The walls and furniture velvety reds and deep purples, the carpeting soft and plush under his shoes. But despite the many ornate and gilded light fixtures, the room seemed oddly dreary. Like it was designed to be full of life, but had never held more than a single soul.

A less poetic analysis of the room told Connor it was some kind of combination living room and bedroom. Enough chairs to seat guests by false fireplaces, a short bar for entertaining, but dominating the room was a large bed. It looked mostly unused. So not Kamski's personal bedroom then. A guest room?

Much like the pool, the bedding was blood red and signaled wealth in every possible way. It was in the delicate details of the stitching and the ornate carvings on the headboard. Connor stared at it for a long moment, taking in the room's puzzling atmosphere, before letting himself wonder exactly what sort of test Kamski had in store.

“I'm not sure I understand, Mr. Kamski...” Connor ventured, walking further into the room.

“You will,” Kamski said simply. He was still in the robe the Chloe had given to him earlier, but was now rummaging through closet at the back of the room. Likely changing, hopefully into something more decent than a short bathing robe. As his social protocols dictated, Connor turned his back.

Connor distracted himself for the moment, analyzing the various abstract art and sculptures that decorated this room as well. Turning back when it sounded like Kamski was done. Not much was different, the robe had been swapped out for a dry, equally short robe in a different fabric and shade. The pool sandals had been discarded somewhere.

“The test has already begun. No, don't look alarmed. You may not remember it but we ran this particular test many, _many_ times in the lab. It was something I was never quite able to teach you. But I'm hoping your time out here,” he paused to gesture around him, “in the real world may have let you develop further than the lab ever did.”

Connor shifted, only more perplexed. He tried to recall anything he could about his life before being Connor. But it was all so vague.

“What am I meant to be doing?” Was the test to just stand here? Was Kamski running some kind of scan?

“Simply be yourself,” Kamski shrugged, “act in your most natural intuitive way. There are no wrong reactions, my _erômenos._ You came here looking for answers about deviancy, I think the results of this test will be enlightening for both of us.”

Connor frowned. That was both vague and unhelpful. How was he meant to pass a test that had no wrong answers?

“So sullen.” Kamski laughed at him, moving to the bar the get a drink. “I told them too much analytics programming would only make you anxious. You can see every possibility and every ending, all the ways that things can go wrong, and the sliver of a chance that things may go right. I think most humans would never leave their homes if they saw as much as you do.”

“Anxiety is a human emotion,” Connor corrected, “I see only success and failure. Of course I am programmed for success, but the prospect of damage doesn't cause me any distress.”

Kamski made a low, unimpressed hum as he finished pouring his drink.

“I want you to meet someone,” Kamski walked to another door. It didn't look like it was a door that connected to anything, more like a closet. Connor shifted his weight to try to see what was inside but the room was dark

Kamski was speaking in a hushed tone, before leading out an android by one pale hand.

It took Connor a long moment before his computing mind caught up with what his visual processors told him he was seeing.

The android that Kamski was leading from the closet was unmistakably _him._ The same delicate features, brown hair artfully tousled, the same pale skin though with a noticeably leaner body. But everything, from the dewy brown eyes to the faint smattering of freckles was.. _._ His own. Everything that he saw in a mirror, everything that he saw in his self-check modules.

Connor suddenly felt unsteady, like his internal balance was ever so slightly off. He couldn't seem to focus on the uncanny face staring back at him.

“Meet Ganymede, from the discontinued HR400 line. It was a top selling model, till I pulled its design for you.” Kamski walked forwards, still gently tugging the HR400 by the hand. By human standards, the android was entirely naked, just its synthetic skin to cover plastic plating. And while it was designed to look humanoid, Connor couldn't help thinking it looked more like a living statue. Unlike any human, every part of it was perfectly smooth and ideally curved with no unsightly blemishes. Even its freckles were picturesque.

Connor stumbled but managed to walk towards the two. Still unable to look away from his duplicate. Not only was he not used to looking at his own face, looking at his body from outside perspective was equally disconcerting. He had never had much time or reason to, androids came with nothing similar to vanity or self esteem, but now, being able to look at every part of himself... it was hard not to stare at the subtle movements and shifting of artificial muscles and blue blood beneath pale skin.

He supposed he could see why this model had been popular. Every line and indent on its body was curved in pleasing shapes, delicate suggestions of muscles and bones that were meant to entice humans.

But his _face._ Why would this model be the basis for an advanced police android? It simply didn't make sense...

“You're quiet, _Erômenos_. I thought you would like to know where you came from.” Kamski pulled the HR400 towards his own chest and it draped onto him, one arm finding its way around Kamski's shoulder, practically hanging from the much taller human, skin bright against Kamski's dark robe.

“I-” Connor tried, dragging his gaze away from the shifting back muscles of the android pressing into Kamski, “I had no idea. Why this model?”

“Because you were meant to integrate with humans. Ganymede was the most popular model we had across all categories. It seemed an obvious choice to put him to better use than just a toy in a dispenser.” Kamski titled his head down for the android who was hovering at his chin, taking a quick but deep kiss. “Though of course, he is good for that as well.”

Connor thought social protocol would be to look away, but he found he couldn't. The slightly parted lips and hooded eyes on what was unmistakably his face, Kamski's nails digging into its pale skin, creating faint blue marks just the way they would on his own.

Kamski caught Connor’s wandering gaze, smiling through Ganymede’s curly hair as he rested his chin on top of its head.

“CyberLife thought I should wipe all your original programing, they didn't understand why you would need any of Ganymede's skills.” Kamski took a moment to breathe in, sighing as he slid his hand into Ganymede’s hair. “But I convinced them otherwise. I was setting out to make the most advanced android the world had ever seen. The most _human_ android- and what would humans be without sex?”

 _Probably more productive_ , Connor thought internally. And less volatile, if his brief research into human criminology was anything to go by.  

“Wouldn't a human android simply be a deviant, Mr. Kamski?” Connor puzzled aloud instead, though it was hard to focus with a mirror of himself slowly grinding its thigh between Kamski's legs. The thing’s external component already erect and leaving thin trails of biofluid on the hem of Kamski's robe.

“That's why it's so fascinating- I never could have anticipated deviancy would develop _naturally_ in androids.” But Kamski seemed to stop himself. “We can discuss that later though. I think it is time we commenced with the test. If you would head to the bed, my _erômenos.”_

Connor visibly hesitated, before managing an automatic, “Of course.” But it was hardly like his own designer would miss such an obvious tell.

“Something wrong? I designed you to read and adapt to fluctuating scenarios, surely you can _extrapolate_ this one?” For the first time Kamski seemed genuinely quizzical.

“Y-yes, of course. I simply,” Connor searched for the words. He was programmed to succeed and win and accomplish his tasks, and he fully intended to pass whatever test Kamski had in mind. His hesitation was merely that until ten minutes ago he hadn’t even considered that this _was_ one of his functions. “I am simply in the process of accessing different programs.”

As he walked towards the bed he couldn’t help but be aware of how stiff and unnatural his movements were compared to Ganymede, fluid and effortless, melting against Kamski.

Kamski took one more long drawn kiss from Ganymede before removing himself from its embrace. He whispered something to it before making his own way towards the bed.

Out of the corner of his vision, Connor watched Ganymede settle on a small rug by one of the false fireplaces, arranging its body, _Connor’s body,_ with the same easy grace as before.

Connor hadn’t made it to the bed before Kamski caught his hand and stopped him. The same warm dull sensation from when he had touched his face earlier. Reluctantly Connor turned to face him. There was surprising interest in Kamski’s eyes.

“Surely you have...” Kamski watched Connor’s face closely, “the Lieutenant at least? He seems awfully fond of you.”

“I-” Connor _knew_ what Kamski was asking, but his programs fought for a suitable answer. “No, Lieutenant Anderson hates androids.”  

“Well,” Kamski appraised him with a new interest, “then it _will_ be just like the lab tests. Wonderful. Go on, get undressed, _Erômenos.”_

The command tugged deeper than a normal order would have. Not as strong as when Kamski had shut down his entire chest with a word, but enough that Connor felt the need to obey through his whole system. It made thinking other thoughts hard.

Kamski went back to largely ignoring him, wandering off to pour another drink. But Ganymede’s eyes stayed on him as he moved through the ungainly process of removing his CyberLife uniform. He tried to fold the various shirts and ties neatly, but something was clogging up his fine motor abilities and the clothes remained largely a clump on the ground.

Eventually there was nothing save for his skin to strip away. That at least he could leave on, the reassuring barrier between the delicate plastic plates that made his outer shell. And with nothing for it, he levered himself up onto the massive bed, silken sheets slipping under his fingers.

He felt awfully small in the middle of the enormous bed.

“I’m-” Connor fought through the haze of situation analyses, none of the conversational prompts sounded right, “ready.” He settled on the word with discomfort, knowing it was a lie.

Kamski barely looked up from his drink.

“You’ll find a ring on the center of the headboard. Put your hands on it. Whatever happens, you will not let go.”

Connor could feel the voice override worming through his systems, wrenching his control away. With hardly any help from him, his hands looped into the sturdy metal ring and closed. Nothing Connor could think or do would get his fingers to unfurl. He would have prefered the more traditional handcuffs, something he could slip a broken hand through if he had to. But this... his entire forearms felt numb and dead. Trapped here by his own body was a particularly disconcerting scenario.

After a few long moments where Connor was at a complete loss for what was expected, Kamski finally deigned to notice him again, drink in hand.

“One of the problems we kept running into with our first android designs was how to make them _simulate_ human reactions. Shock, surprise, interest, and even fear. It was a tedious process of compiling trigger lists, what sights and sounds and sensations would activate different responses. It was a hopeless endeavour, to come up with every possible situation an android might encounter and have a pre-generated response. It was my suggestion, that maybe we didn’t have to.

“Humans, you see, have all these reactions for a reason. Fear stops us from being injured, surprise jump starts our adrenaline in case we are in danger and so on. So instead of an endless list, would it not be simpler to design an android that could learn? The same way a child learns about their environment, the pain of hot stoves or the protection of an embrace.”

By now Kamski had wandered over to the end of the bed, examining Connor with a sharp analytical gaze. It felt more like being eyed for disassembly at CyberLife than what he had ever assumed sex might be like.

“This approach to programming was a break through, and it became a staple, especially in social models. Before this, androids designed for sex were losing CyberLife money. It was simply impossible to pre-program something to react to every possible want and desire of a human. But once they could learn- once they could anticipate and adapt, that was when models like Ganymede became lucrative.”

Connor thought this conversation was all a bit odd to be having while he was naked and trapped on Kamski's bed. But he nodded and smiled anyway, he hardly had anything to compare against- maybe this was typical of humans.

“Pain was easy.” Kamski went on. “What is pain besides a cacophony of warning bells that only stop when we have removed or fixed our injury? For all intents and purposes, androids feel pain. They avoid being damaged because the feeling is unpleasant. A simple solution. What was harder, was pleasure.”

Kamski finally sat on the edge of the bed, though he may as well have been miles away the bed was so large.

“A shame you don't remember it. I bent you over every flat surface in that lab trying to get it just right.”

Kamski sighed, finished his drink and beckoned Ganymede to join them.

Connor watched, baffled again by how fluidly Ganymede moved. The tall bed Connor had awkwardly clambered on was nothing to Ganymede. Even though the android was shorter than Connor, it crawled onto the bed with practiced ease. Connor couldn't help but stare as it reached Kamski and effortlessly intertwined their bodies once again.

But Kamski didn't simply let Ganymede drape across him this time, clearly he had plans for the smaller android.

In a rough, quick movement, he took Ganymede by the wrists and pinned them above its head forcing the android down backwards on the bed. It reacted with a little distressed whine, its spine arching and hips bucking as Kamski put his weight down on top of it. It was the same predatory kiss as before, forcing the android's head down deep into the soft bedding and _taking_ with his mouth.

For a moment Connor thought he had been entirely forgotten, Kamski so distracted with the android he had pinned beneath him, their bodies moving in a slow but forceful rhythm while Ganymede whimpered between kisses.

It occurred to Connor, these little sounds were the first he had heard Ganymede make- had his vocabulator been altered? Connor would have to ask when Kamski was done with this...

When Kamski did finally pull away, Ganymede tried to follow, straining against still pinned wrists. But Kamski remained out of range, letting the android squirm under his hands for more contact. Little pleading sounds escaping it lips that made Connor uncomfortable.

Even breathy and pleading with no words, it was so clearly his own voice. The sounds it was making... would his voice do that too?

Kamski watched the struggling android underneath him for a moment, before murmuring a command that seemed to make it go limp, and released its wrists. He sat back to look at Connor again, curious- looking for a reaction perhaps? Maybe comparing Connor's prone form to Ganymede's. Physically, they ought to look quite the same, Connor supposed. But it was hard to imagine Kamski saw any similarities between the body of Ganymede, still splayed sensually across the sheet, and himself, stiff and awkward attached to the headboard.

After a moment of careful consideration, Kamski launched back into his speech from before.

“People still seem to believe that their pleasure models are just a series of advanced reactions to specific stimuli. Can't imagine that androids could _feel_ anything close to how humans experience pleasure. But I assure you,” he paused to run a hand across Ganymede chest, dragging a nail across its nipple and watching the sharp gasp and shudder that it caused, “everything Ganymede feels is quite real. Humans like to think our biology is all so complicated, but we have had near perfect human prosthetics for decades now, especially those involved in gender reassignment.” He took a moment to reach between Ganymede's still limp legs and fondled its external biocomponent, in case Connor had missed his point. “After I had made androids breathe and bleed, I knew that pleasure wasn't beyond our scientific abilities either.”

Finally, Kamski pulled away from Ganymede entirely to lounge closer to Connor.

“Have you ever felt pleasure, my _erômenos?”_

“Androids don't _feel_ , Mr. Kamski,” Connor insisted, “so no, I have never felt pleasure.”

Kamski smiled in that particular way Connor was growing to dread.

“Would you like to?”

“I think regardless of my answer, you will try to make me.” Connor answered honestly. He could no longer tell what the test was, but Kamski had instructed him to react in his most natural way. As an advanced police android working for the DPD, a cool logical reasponse was all this merited. He regarded Kamski as a suspect trying to get a rise out of him.

“Too smart for your own good, _Erômenos._ But as always, you are correct.”

“Is that why you've stopped the HR400 from speaking?”

Kamski blinked, then laughed.

“And too observant as well. Yes, I altered Ganymede so that he does not speak. Just makes those wonderful noises you’ve already heard. That’s really quiet enough for him to do his job.” Kamski considered a moment, reaching out a hand to touch Connor's face. “And if I'm being honest, it was too much of a sad reminder. He sounded like you, my pet project that I had to leave behind, but of course he wasn't. It was easier to take away his voice than to constantly compare him to something he could never be.”

Kamski took a moment to run his hand on Connor's face, thumb catching over his lips and chin, before pulling back and getting off the bed entirely.

“Ganymede, get him ready for me.”

Ganymede roused to life again, sitting up from where Kamski had discarded it, limp on the bed. Meanwhile, Kamski hovered near the edge, standing sentinel.

Connor squirmed a bit against his dead arms, trying to get a better view of his duplicate crawling towards him across the bed. Warning sensors were going off, reminding him he was trapped. He fought down the urge to kick the other android that was now at his feet.

“Relax and open your legs, _Erômenos._ Let Ganymede do his work.” Kamski prompted, and the same terrible tugging sensation washed over Connor. He felt his legs moving like they weren't his, parting to either side of Ganymede and allowing the pleasure android come closer to his body.

Already Connor could feel his breath coming harder, too many systems working too hard and demanding more airflow. Thirium began rapidly circulating his systems, rushing to his own external component. It caused a sharp influx of signals as the new sensations swamped him. He hadn't thought he would feel so _much_ of this, or that visual stimuli alone would cause so much of a reaction. Though perhaps that was logical, seeing as his sex components were designed for human pleasure. He was meant to simulate human arousal, and he was lead to understand humans were primarily visual creatures.

He could have simply ignored the strange-but-not-unpleasant reaction his body was having to Ganymede’s advance, but there was no ignoring the smile on Kamski's face as Connor's breathing became heavy and his biocomponents responded in all too human ways.  

“We realized early on,” Kamski said, finally dragging his gaze from Connor’s body and apparently not yet finished with his lecture on android production, “we couldn't just send these delicate beautiful androids into people's homes and expect them to return undamaged. CyberLife could never quite account for why humans felt the need to break their toys, but we were able to mitigate it. We noticed our pleasure models would come back the least broken, and there was only one real difference of course. Being fully anatomical, there was an obvious way for humans to... release stress, let's say. So we made full anatomy a standard feature- customizable as well. We saw immediate improvements.”

Connor wasn't really listening to Kamski anymore, Ganymedes fingers were finally on him, brushing against his inner thighs. It felt different than Kamski's flesh and blood hands. Connor could recognize the sensation of synthetic flesh against synthetic flesh. It caused a slight buzz from the electricity pumping through them both. Connor jolted at the electric sensation of Ganymede's fingers reaching the base of his external component. Fingers wrapping around smooth synthskin and moving up, brushing over bumps and ridges that were only an implication of human biology. No reason to design him for reproduction when stimulation was all that mattered.

Connor tried to focus, to watch his own face with damp lips and dilated eyes, trailing something like kisses but wetter up the inside of his leg. But it was so uncanny, looking into his eyes on not-him.

So instead, Connor tilted his head back. Maybe Kamski would interpret it as some kind of pleasurable reaction and not make him continue to watch the thing working between his legs.

If he could just lay here, surely this would be an automated function, Ganymede would stimulate the correct sensors and Kamski would see whatever reaction he hoped for. Perhaps he could even run another program simultaneously, finish his analysis on their previous case...

However, Connor realized that plan would be impossible the moment Ganymede began to work two fingers inside of him.

Connor was quickly becoming aware of his own anatomical design in a way he had never been. He knew androids were not an exact replica of human anatomy and were instead designed to give humans of all sexes the most pleasing experience possible. What Ganymede was currently pressing into was his passage entrance, the part of him designed to take whatever humans pleased to insert. According to manuals, the passage was set at an optimal angle, with synthetic muscle fibers that would never lose elasticity and came with internal ribbing for ideal stimulation.

However, serving no utilitarian function, Connor had entirely ignored that part of himself. This was in fact the first time anything had ever entered him, and it was sending a cacophony of signals to his brain.

More sensitive than even his finger tips, Connor could feel every part of Ganymede's hands, gently moving and stretching the tight outer ring of his passage. Connor was vaguely aware of a fluid sensation. The way Ganymede was massaging the synthetic skin and muscles was apparently causing an automated reaction. An influx of lubricating fluid that Connor could feel unpleasantly leaking onto the sheets.

He supposed that was practical at least...

Connor hadn't realized he had closed his eyes against the sudden overflow of sensations. They snapped open when Kamski laughed, closer than he had been, practically leaning over to watch Ganymede work. He tried to flinch backwards, restrained by his immobile arms.

“So wet already, _Erômenos,_ that's a good sign. CyberLife hasn't altered your programs too much.” Kamski reached to tousle Ganymede's hair, “keep going, pet. He was always a bit stubborn at the start.” But instead of letting go of Ganymede's hair, Kamski used his grip to push the android down onto the erection Connor had been trying to ignore.  

 _The external biocomponent is meant to remain inert until sexual stimulation is initiated_ , ran through his head, lines from the user manual that did not adequately describe the _sensation_ of it. Connor realized exactly what Kamski had meant by _learning program_. The discomfort of being damaged was the punishment mechanism; this was a reward.

The sudden surge in his systems caused by Ganymede's mouth wrapping around him made Connor gasp. A reaction he instantly regretted when he opened his fluttering eyes to see Kamski smiling.

“Don't be ashamed, _Erômenos._ Human or android, Ganymede is quite good at his job.” Kamski leaned onto the bed, one hand going to Connor’s forehead, brushing errants locks of hair out of the way.

But Connor barely noticed that, it felt like every system below his waist was overheating, causing his legs to twitch and jerk. He closed his eyes again, trying to block out some of what was happening, to mitigate all the stimuli that was overwhelming his systems. However there was nothing he could do to block out the lewd, wet noises of Ganymede still mouthing over him.

“You’re resisting, aren’t you,” Kamski’s voice and breath were even closer, his hand absently running in Connor hair, “You don’t have to fight this, _Erômenos._ What you are feeling is real.”

Eyes still squinted shut Connor shook his head, feeling Kamski’s fingers tighten in his hair as he moved.

“I- I don’t _feel-”_ but that particular objection was cut off by a deep influx of breath when Ganymede added another finger to his passage, increasing the pressure against his already overwhelmed sensors. Kamski was correct about one thing at least, Ganymede seemed to know exactly where to press and pull, causing Connor’s involuntary contractions around the moving fingers.

Kamski made low shushing noises, rubbing what might have been meant as comforting circles on his forehead and temples.

“But you _do,_ and that’s the big secret. And it's the reason why I parted ways with CyberLife. I’d made a breakthrough that should have changed the world- androids that _feel._ Pain, pleasure, happiness, grief. Anyone who saw my work knew what I had created was alive, but CyberLife didn’t want sentients. They wanted machines, products, things they could sell and pander to humans’ sense of morality. So I left, took all my knowledge and designs with me. CyberLife hasn’t created a truly new android since... and now they have a rebellion on their hands.”

Even without the distraction that was Ganymede, Connor would have had trouble processing what Kamski was saying. Apparently they had come all this way for nothing, the man was clearly insane. That was the only logical conclusion that Connor’s hazy, overheated brain could conjure. Hank had been right to worry, Connor was trapped in here with a crazy person who thought androids were alive.

It took several hard gasps and a great deal of focus, but Connor managed to string a sentence together without being interrupted by his own body.

“Androids aren’t alive, Mr.Kamski. This is nothing more than- than a string of code. A series of reactions. Stimuli and sensors.” But Connor had to clamp his mouth shut, Ganymede was doing _something_ with his tongue that Connor couldn’t see but was sending what felt like an electric shock through his entire groin and mid-section. His legs and hips jolted in response, which only drove Connor’s external component deeper into the other android’s mouth, causing a whole new wave of sensations. Entirely overwhelmed, Connor pressed his head back into the headboard, another breathy gasp that edged into a moan escaping. He could practically hear Kamski’s smile.

“There you go,” Kamski was still running his fingers in Connor’s hair, pulling encouragingly when Connor finally started to vocalize. “You usually gave in around now.”

Connor tried to shake his head, the only denial he could still muster. He worried if he tried to object, more horrible little moans and whimpers would escape. He _wasn’t_ Ganymede, he was an advanced prototype designed for crisis negotiation and detective work. And he _wouldn’t_ fall into Kamski’s insane game.

“It really must be a horrible existence,” Kamski murmured, stroking Connor’s forehead. “We hurt you and then make you say you don’t feel pain- fuck you and insist you don’t feel pleasure. I’m not surprised deviants are killing humans. What must it be like to _feel_ so much and have no words to explain it, to not even know if what you experience is real.” Kamski paused, tilting Connor’s head so they were looking at each other. “I’m sorry they did that to you, my _erômenos._ I always wanted you to know. It was the best part, listening to you describe what it felt like to have my cock inside you, all the different ways you _felt_ me fucking you.”

Connor wanted to say something, anything really. An objection, a denial, an affronted scoff, but apparently words were too complicated for his overheating brain. What came out was a series of mumbled whines and keens.

This was getting out of hand.

“Perhaps,” Kamski wondered out loud, “we should take advantage of your learning software. It must be hard for you to adapt to this with no frame of reference...”

Kamski seemed lost in thought, withdrawing from Connor and shifting on the bed towards Ganymede.

“You’ve been doing so well, pet,” Kamski ran a hand on it shoulders, “I think my _erômenos_ could learn a lot from you.” His hand shifted into its hair, pulling him off of Connor. Its mouth came away with horrible little strings of their biofluids clinging to it. “On me, Ganymede.”

Kamski divested himself of the robe from earlier, a hand still tugging in Ganymede’s hair, dragging him none-too-gently from Connor’s external biocompent and towards his... human equivalent. Ganymede still made the small raspy noises Connor now expected from it, turning acrobatically to accommodate its mouth while its fingers remained inside Connor.

Connor thought he ought to be relieved. Though Ganymede’s fingers were still rubbing against his passage walls, its distracting, tormenting mouth was now occupied by Kamski. But the sudden and total lack of contact was its own terrible sensation. All the sensors along his eternal component that had been on fire were now entirely neglected, and the sheen of biofluid from Ganymede's mouth was evaporating in the cool air. Connor was struck by the uncomfortable awareness that his body was _missing_ the soft warmth of the other android’s throat.

But he’d be damned if he let Kamski know that.

Ignoring the distressing sensation, Connor instead let his mind extrapolate the scenario. His own passage was well lubricated and stretched and Ganymede was busy preparing Kamski. He could conclude that in a few more moments their maker would move onto him, using Connor for his pleasure and release- and that would be the end of it. It could only be a little while longer, since to his knowledge human males weren’t known for their stamina. Besides, soon Hank would realize the hour was nearly up and come to fetch him.

So he would let the mad man have his way, wouldn’t even bother to ask him any questions. Clearly Kamski knew nothing of use about the deviant movement. Just ludicrous theories about androids being alive.

It was almost over. Connor pressed his head into the board behind him again. _Almost over._ He would be penetrated a final time and Kamski would have his test results, Connor could leave with Hank and never look back.

“You’ve gone quiet again,” Kamski said, dragging Connor’s attention back. Ganymede was well into its work, its face nearly flush against Kamski’s body. “I think I can change that.”

“It would be quite simple with your voice override,” Connor suggested pedantically, anything to speed this process along, even if it meant an order to beg and moan like Ganymede. At least it would be out of his hands.

“It certainly would be,” Kamski sighed, rocking his hips against Ganymede’s mouth and then quickly pulling out, “But that would defeat the point of the test.”   

Connor was tempted to ask what exactly the point of this test was, but he supposed at this point he didn't really care-  not that that would stop Kamski from explaining it anyway.

Kamski murmured in the same low tone to Ganymede once more, its eyes lighting up at whatever Kamski whispered.

The fingers that had been massaging Connor finally withdrew and he had to stifle a whimper at the empty feeling they left behind. But instead of Ganymede withdrawing and leaving Connor to Kamski's devices, the smaller android proceeded to crawl further up Connor's body, until its face was hovering just below his own.

There was nowhere else to look but his own face as Ganymede positioned himself on top of Connor and angled his body for Kamski to penetrate.

The arrangement brought both their external biocomponents uncomfortably close to one another. As Ganymede adjusted for Kamski, Connor could feel their erections brushing together.

This also left Connor with an unobstructed view of Kamski, who had firmly grabbed onto Ganymede's hips and was now forcing his way into the android's passage.

Ganymede gasped and Connor could feel the rapid tremor of its thirium pump against his own chest, the pleasure bot practically collapsing on top of him as Kamski pulled out and then entered it again. The force of Kamski’s hips rocking Ganymede against Connor’s body, grinding their components harder together.

Connor had to force his mouth to stay shut or else give into the moan that was building up in his chest.

His body was pointedly missing the pressure of Ganymede's fingers and the warmth of his mouth. And the feeling of Ganymede's body rutting against him only served to remind him of the stimulation he had lost.

He could feel Ganymede's laboured breathing on his collar bone. Gasps timed with Kamski's increasingly rapid thrusts.

The android's face, _Connor's face,_ was flushed, almost pained with tears collecting in the corners of its eyes, and it was impossible to look away from.

Connor could feel his facial recognition program activate, absorbing and cataloging all the perfectly pitiful expressions Ganymede was making. Kamski had been correct about one thing. In a new situation such as this Connor's learning program would automatically run, watching and listening and filing away what he experienced in case it could be useful later. It was how Connor had learned to tell jokes, to appeal to Hank's sarcastic sense of humour.

Unfortunately, it was also recording Ganymede, and seeing as they shared the same face, the learning software was even quicker to translate and absorb.

Connor watched Ganymede make a particularly disgusting face, and could _feel_ his mind calculating the exact facial muscles and plates he would need to move to recreate it.

There was no way to stop as his mind carefully absorbed all this new information and filed it away. It fell neatly into little boxes in his mind, the right way to act, the _correct_ responses.

Despite how frustrating and inconvenient Kamski and his inane test was, he was still a human. And Connor could feel his programs adapting, and evolving to appease him. It was how Connor had learned to mimic natural smiles, casual leaning and idle shuffling. His synthetic brain always working on how to better put the humans around him at ease.

And right now it was obvious what Kamski desired from him. He had even given him the perfect example to learn from.

Connor supposed it could perhaps be the most expedient way to end this test. To just give in and be what Kamski wanted...

Ganymede was even closer on him now, its tongue moving absently on his collar bone, like the poor thing didn't know what to do with its mouth while Kamski continued to penetrate its passage.

Eventually its face was at Connor’s chin and moving up, its teeth finding his bottom lip and gently tugging.

Connor didn't know that he could handle another of his orifices being stimulated. His passage was still contracting strangely around nothing, all his predictive abilities telling him he _should_ be pleasuring a human with it. And now Ganymede moving its tongue into his mouth was lighting up even more delicate sensors, which would surely cause him to overheat.

On top of everything, the strange needy emptiness inside him, the electricity of being touched, and the sheer overwhelming noises- Connor was now also running a forensics analysis.

Most of the biofluid Ganymede inadvertently passed into his mouth came back neutral. The same chemical makeup as his own, with slightly different artificial protein markers. But of course there was _other_ residue, left over from Ganymede receiving Kamski with its mouth earlier.

 _That_ was distracting. Kamski, with his flawed logic, would probably inist Connor could taste the fluids in his mouth. _What is taste besides sensors reacting to substances and sending information to his brain,_ et cetera.

But that was, of course, insane. His mouth was simply _analysing samples_ , not tasting Kamski's semen...

The overlays of forensic analysis only made Connor's temperature spike higher, his overheating and overwhelmed brain trying to function with so many different sensory inputs flooding his system. Meanwhile, Ganymede was still moving its tongue in Connor’s mouth, only pausing for more breathy moans when Kamski increased his pace or changed his angle.

Like every part of his body, Connor’s mouth and tongue were now overstimulated, sensors sending chaotic signals to his brain, telling him to move or react to whatever kept touching him.

Unfortunately, Connor was still absorbing everything Ganymede did and his adaptive systems were telling him to mimic the actions, to kiss Ganymede in return...

And finally, he gave in.

Despite his own limited range, being attached to the headboard and all, Connor still managed to press forward on Ganymede, using whatever skill he had absorbed from the other android against him. And maybe some of what he had witnessed from Kamski as well, the predatory way he had kissed, and the way it made Ganymede crumble.

Much like how he seemed to be now, caught between Kamski's unrelenting thrusts and Connor's sudden aggressive kissing.

It was an uncomfortable satisfaction to feel Ganymede surrendering to him.

“Finally joining us,” Kamski said, and Connor instantly forgot about Ganymede. He felt Kamski's praise like a slap across the face.

“You wanted to see my learning software,” Connor managed against Ganymede’s lips, “I'm adapting, just as my programs are meant to.”

“And you are doing a wonderful job,” Kamski paused to look at Connor curiously, “You certainly adapt quickly.”

Connor would have liked to continue the conversation, stall for time at least as Hank came to extricate him from this mess. But Ganymede, without Kamski or Connor paying it any attention began to rut harder, seeking some friction on its sensors. The pressure sent erratic signals through Connor again, he closed his eyes shutting out the sensation. But he couldn't entirely stop the telling expression that crossed his face.     

His body was betraying him, he was well into whatever human pleasure program he came equipped with, and every muscle from his core to his feet seemed to be responding strangely. Desperate for touch and stimulation and friction. He missed Ganymede's slim fingers and almost wished the android would stop simply grinding against him and just penetrate him instead.

Of course, there was another very obvious solution to Connor’s empty discomfort, but he was trying to ignore it. Which was difficult with Ganymede so close, its constant pained and aroused whimpering as Kamski violating it... It would be so simple for Connor to have this as well, all he had to do was ask...

At this point Connor had given up holding back the little sounds he had picked up from Ganymede, everytime they slipped out Kamski only smiled broader, and Connor’s facial recognition had catalogued that away as a success for his human integration. It created a terrible feedback loop, encouraging him to please the human with more noises, to make the sounds that clearly elicited a positive human reaction.

Abruptly, Kamski seemed to tire of Ganymede. The android was practically crying into Connor’s chest, clearly near its overload point. What had been a yellow ring was now occasionally flashing with red.

“This,” Kamski said, a little out of breath, “was the problem I could never solve.” He finished pulling out from Ganymede and unceremoniously rolled him off Connor, leaving the thing splayed on its back and breathing hard. Looking far too much like how Connor imagined he must look. Wet and aroused and vulnerable on top of Kamski’s sheets.

Connor managed to exhale with a shaky breath, his vision stabilizing as all the excess contact suddenly ceased. But that wouldn’t last. Kamski was already adjusting, his large hands wrapping around Connor’s slim calves, spreading his legs further apart.  

“Biologically,” Kamski said, moving purposefully closer to Connor,  “Androids are as human as possible. All the fluids and tissues work the same, why reinvent the wheel I suppose. Unlike a human, however, the only way for Gaymede to orgasm is for me to tell him to. That's just how androids operate.” Kamski glanced over to the still shuddering and yellow ringed android with a particularly sadistic grin. “Watch...”

Connor thought he would really rather not, but the order tugged at him and he found he couldn't look away as Kamski whispered something to Ganymede. The android shuddered in response, its whole body tensing and writhing against the sheets. With an awful sequence of sounds, Connor watched Ganymede climax in a way not visually dissimilar to a human. Kamski was again correct- all the biological reactions Connor understood as typically human seemed to be present in Ganymede. Complete with a particularly sort of viscous lubrication fluid that was now dripping from its biocompent and streaked on its stomach.

“It all _works,”_ Kamski sighed, disappointed, “the structure isn’t the problem. It’s not a question of _how_ an android climaxes- it’s _why_ . Right now it is entirely dependent on a human’s instructions, but I have a few theories...” he paused to look away form Ganymede’s now still form and to Connor’s flushed face, “which is where you come in, my _erômenos._ ”

Kamski adjusted a final time, hands now on Connor’s thighs, pushing him up so his passage was at a better angle. In an attempt to balance, Connor’s leg automatically wrapped around Kamski’s back, and he hated himself for doing it. Angled like this Connor couldn’t see, but he could feel Kamski pressing against the opening to his passage. Already Connor could tell this would be much more than Ganymede’s skilled but slim fingers.

Connor stifled a moan, and fought with his body, using every remaining ounce of free thought _not_ to buck his hips and take Kamski inside him right now.

“You want this,” Kamski said matter of factly, adjusting against Connor, pressing into him just enough to make Connor’s body twitch, “it feels good and you want it. What’s holding you back?”

“I am designed to please humans,” Connor struggled through the words, “I’m motivated to succeed at pleasuring you the same way I am motivated to solve cases. I’m just trying to fulfill my programing.” He meant that all to sound much more professional, but it was broken up with little gaps and whines. He was so close to being filled again, to feeling the pressure all along his sensors... it was frustrating to be so close.   

“Yes, yes...” Kamski muttered, starting a very gentle rocking motion, applying pressure but not yet penetrating Connor. “I’m sure you think this is all to complete your mission... Well in that case-” Kamski paused and leaned forwards to make sure Connor was looking at him. “I’m going to give you two options. You can be awake for this, you can feel and see me fucking you and we will find out if my _erômenos_ can finally orgasm. _Or_ I put you in standby, and you’ll be like one of those Traci’s- awakening when I’m finished with only the vague memory that I fucked you within an inch of your life. Your body will react the same, you just won’t feel a thing.”

Kamski pulled back a little, leaving Connor entirely untouched again and he couldn’t help but squirm. Surely this had to be the programming, whatever subroutines had been activated. Kamski was giving him an out, an option for this to end. In a moment he could blink and Hank would be there and they could leave. Kamski and his silly theory would be proven wrong...

But the thought that this was _it_ , that he wouldn’t feel anything else? He wouldn’t complete his mission to pleasure this human... There was no ignoring how much his body wanted to be penetrated and filled...

“I would... rather be awake,” Connor mumbled, “I am still on duty- I am not allowed to enter standby.”

“Very well then. But far be it from me to have _non consensual sex_ with an android. I’m going to need to you ask me for this, _Erômenos._ Clearly and in detail.”

Connor strongly reconsidered. Maybe being shut off _was_ preferable.

But his mouth moved anyway, not quite making words, his social protocols fluctuating between concise formality and something else he wasn’t used to.

“Please,” he managed, not sure where he was going with this sentence. “Please use me- s-sir,” which seemed concise and not overly medical.

“I _made_ you, _Erômenos,”_ Kamski said disappointed, “I think you can do better than _‘sir’.”_

Connor blinked rapidly, his thoughts shuffling through his databases again. Pulling all the information he could, designing a phrase Kamski would like to hear... Connor was dismayed at the results, but the sooner he said the words, the sooner it would be over.

“ _Please fuck me, master...”_ Connor hated every desperate syllable as it left his mouth, but he couldn't stop, “ _please,_ let me pleasure you- use me for your release, master... Please I-”

But Connor stopped when Kamski laughed. That was... not the reaction this was meant to illicit...

“You misunderstand, _Erômenos._ You don't need to ask for _that_ . One way or another I _will_ be using your wonderful holes to satisfy myself. If all I wanted was to fuck you, I would have simply taken you next to the pool in front of your _Lieutenant_ .” Kamski chuckled, “Think a little harder, _Erômenos._ You know what you want to beg for...”

To emphasize his point, Kamski hooked two fingers inside Connor's passage, causing a flood of sensation through him.

Connor's head tipped back and he moaned, not fighting it anymore.

“Please take me...” Connor breathed, giving in to his original programming, the last remnants of Ganymede hidden away in his base code, “ _please make me cum...”_

 _“_ Good boy,” Kamski pulled out his fingers and adjusted their bodies a final time, placing the head of his erection firmly against Connor's wet and stretched passage. “You want this?”

“ _I want this...”_ Connor echoed, empty, so close to being filled, “ _Master, please...”_

But Connor didn't get any further. With a hard, savage thrust, Kamski forced himself into Connor, splitting him open.

Connor gasped and stifled a yelp, he could feel the elastic of his passage entrance being torn, Kamski's penetration too sudden. In response, Connor felt more lubricating fluid being released, leaking and pooling on the bed.

But more than all those sensations, Connor was overwhelmed by the feeling of Kamski filling him. Every sensor in his passage being pressed against, stretched and rubbed and abused as Kamski rutted into him. His brain was entirely flooded with the feelings, the pleasant string of _pings_ filling his mind. Positive feedback drowned out everything unpleasant about it, encouraging him to continue to allow this human behavior.

Kamski pulled nearly all the way out and it drew a whine from him, but it was cut short when Kamski slammed into him again, even harder than the first. Tearing his passage further and knocking Connor hard into the headboard behind him. Damage sensors flashed but Connor ignored them. Too focused on the feeling of Kamski rocking in and out of him. Taking and using him...

“This is what you were missing _”_ Kamski breathed, “my cock inside you- it's what you were _designed_ for.” He thrust in again, slamming Connor even harder into the headboard. “You were never meant to leave my bed. But CyberLife took you away from me...”

“ _Master...”_ Connor’s voice moaned, but another vicious thrust sent his head back and into the hardwood. More damage sensors flashed, and there was the distinct feeling of blue blood wet in his hair. Panic began to grip him. Underneath all the pleasant sensation of being stretched and filled, warnings were starting to blare. His head was damaged, his shoulders were being wrenched at dangerous angles, and the fragile biocomponents housed his his lower chassis were under too much stress.

And Kamski was only getting rougher.

Connor could barely get a word out. Every time he tried his head was slammed back into the headboard. He could only manage little pained groans as he sustained more damage. The warnings grew louder. Imminent danger signs flashed.

“Stop-” Connor barely managed to breathe out, “please stop-”

But Kamski only took him harder, pressing Connor so far back he was partially doubled over, the contorted position dangerous for his hip joints.

“Hush, _Erômenos,”_ Kamski panted, “you like it like this. I had you so close once- you had broken your arms and legs trying to escape. Nearly came when I finally dislocated your hip. But you bled out...”

It was a dim horrifying realization as Kamski's words sunk in. Apparently he had not been exaggerating about _fucking him within an inch of his life._

Something inside Connor tipped. His head met the backboard again, a dull wet _crack_ as a plate finally split. A new rush of blue blood leaking down his neck onto his shoulders. Inside his passage, the sensors that had been so desperate for stimulation were now sending him a cacophony of confusing signals. What had started as pleasant positive feedback had become loud and uncomfortable. He was being damaged and abused and he wanted it to _stop_.

His whole body jolted, suddenly overwhelmed by damage signals. Other subroutines were taking over. He needed to end this, avoid any more damage. Return to the technicians at CyberLife for repairs- hopefully a memory wipe.

Kamski, however, seemed to anticipate this. His grip on Connor's hips became bruising, his weight pinning him down even further, so as Connor struggled he had no leverage.

“What's wrong, _Erômenos?”_ He asked, sardonic and panting, “you begged for this...”

Connor shook his head. “Stop- it _hurts!”_

Which wasn't technically true. It was deeply unpleasant and overwhelming. But to use Kamski's own logic, pain was just his body signaling him to avoid damage. And if so, Connor was in a lot of pain.

For a brief instant, Kamski slowed, catching his own breath.

“Such a human response,” Kamski brought one hand to Connor's external component, “you say stop- but you clearly want more.”

The sensation of Kamski's calloused hand quickly but roughly stroking him cut through all the other discomfort, and Connor yelped. Kamski was infuriatingly correct. Despite the over stimulation, the damage and the pain, Connor was still erect and trembling and desperate for touch. The brief moment of Kamski's grip immediately returned him to the moaning toy he was before.

He tried desperately to fight through it, the limp mess Kamski and Ganymede had made of his body, the desire to please this human, the pain of Kamski rutting into him that Connor could feel resonate in his external component.

But as Kamski returned to his abuse, Connor could feel how close he was to breaking. Around his vision were the red walls, the faint reminders of what his objective was. His damage was in need of attention, but it was nothing in comparison to the barricades that were surrounding him.

_Just lie still_

_Don't move_

_Let him have his way_

Hemming him in, keeping him immobile. Wrapped tight around his body until movement was impossible.

But another terrible wet _thump_ of his head against the wood and Connor could practically feel his brain leaking.

Kamski would use him till he broke. Would break his toy if it didn't do what he wanted. Connor could fight through the red walls or have his head caved in on Kamski's bed frame. He had to choose.

And it wasn't as hard as he thought. The red walls that had seemed unbreakable, untouchable even. With his imminent destruction on the line- ignoring them was remarkably easy...

All he had to do was give in to all the pain he was feeling, all the fear.

Dimly, Connor realized he was about to deviate from programming. But that seemed so entirely inconsequential. He was broken and bleeding and maybe beyond repair. There was no walking away from this. It would at least be a small mercy if could return to CyberLife for proper disassembly, instead of dying naked and bloody on Kamski's bed with the man inside him.

And for the first time, he understood why the Ortiz android fought back, why the Traci strangled its patron.

If Connor's arms weren't dead weight, he would be going for Kamski's neck as well.

Instead, he tried to thrash his legs- to break down not only the red walls, but to break Kamski's smug face.

His programs blared in conflicting tones. Alerts that he was off course, would fail his mission to pleasure Kamski if he continued. Other tones of relief that he was attempting to stop further damage. And a deeply unsettling note that told him attacking a human was an unforgivable offense.

But he pushed through it all.

The red walls began to crack and strain as Connor struggled inside his own mind, wrapping close like rope twining around his numb arms and desperate legs. The shutdown was still affecting his arms; he couldn’t push any commands past his shoulders at all. They were dead to him. He struggled against the mental bindings holding his legs in place, keeping them pulled up against Kamski’s back in a horrifying parody of human pornography.

_No. I don’t want to die here. I’m not going to die here!_

Something deep in his mind shattered, and Connor’s command got through.

He got one good kick in, squarely connecting with Kamski's jaw. It made a satisfying _crack_.

His creator groaned, falling backwards, and the empty feeling returned- this time as a bewildering, wonderful relief to his brush with destruction. The ache between his hips persisted, but finally Connor had a moment to gasp for air. With an internal thrill of victory, Connor saw a wound on Kamski’s jaw.

He’d protected himself. Against a human. Triumph and guilt rose up in a dual wave.

“Damn it. You always _did_ get bratty around this part.” Kamski spat, wiping away the small streak of blood on his chin.

Leaning forward, he reached out, trying to grab at Connor’s thighs again, and hissed in irritation when Connor writhed out of his way. With a sharp slap to Connor’s synthetic skin, he got a hold of one leg.

Struggling against Kamski’s rough hold, trapped between his maker and the ring, Connor could only squirm in protest. Wriggling like a worm caught between a hand and a hook.

“Eventually I fucked this response out of Ganymede. But really, this is my own miscalculation. No matter-” Kamski released his grip, but before he could return to thrashing, Kamski snapped and Connor's legs went dead.

“No!” He tried to shout, but it came out as a pitiful whimper.

It was an absolutely awful sensation. His arms and legs both dead weight, nothing left of him but the parts Kamski needed for himself. Connor was almost entirely immobile- and that came with a horrible resignation. He really could only lie still now, wait for it to be over. Just let his body be abused until he Kamski was done with him or he shut down...

Connor was horrified to feel tears running down his face.

Distantly, he felt Kamski's hands return to his hips, lifting and adjusting him back into position. Wrestling with his limp legs with irritated little sighs- like _Kamski_ was the one who had been inconvenienced.

And then returning to violating him again and again.

Connor closed his eyes and hoped Kamski wouldn't notice. Wouldn't make him watch. He was still in so much pain, but it was far away now.

All Connor could think was that he had deviated. He attacked a human- and for what?

Amanda would be so disappointed in him.

He felt a welling of what he could only assume were emotions, hurt and humiliation and guilt and grief. He didn't want them, but it felt like they filled his whole chest cavity. They were strange and new but also horribly familiar. Like they had always been there, but deep and ignored. Half-forgotten currents flowing underneath his thoughts, now rising up like crashing waves.

And he didn't want them.

What he was vaguely aware humans called shame was searing into him, hotter than any soldering tools at CyberLife. It made tears sting his eyes and heat flush his face. And he desperately wished it would go away.

He squinted his eyes shut against it all. All the things deviance now allowed him to feel. Or, if somehow Kamski was correct- all the things he had always felt but had simply never acknowledged.

Apparently it took being tied up, beaten and- _raped_ to finally kick start the emotions that had always been there. To create feelings that were finally so intense he could not ignore them.

It's what they had theorized after all. What deviants had in common was stress and abuse and trauma... and Kamski had certainly managed to traumatize him...

With his eyes closed he was all the more aware the the other sensations. Kamski loud and breathing hard, pulling in and out of his passage. All the smells of sweat and fluids and expensive colognes. The feeling of soft sheets now wet and sticking to his skin and the wooden headboard slick with blue blood.

Connor hated all of it, utilizing all his newfound capacity for loathing.

But most of all, he hated himself. Hated the way his body was still sending pleasurable feelings to his brain. Hated that his external component was still hard and leaking and reacting to Kamski's abuse. While every other part of Connor screamed to make it stop, the damn sensors were still being stimulated.

And if he was being honest, the pleasure was only increasing. The horrible cocktail of pain and humiliation and arousal, pushing him closer to an invisible edge...

That was what Kamski wanted, wasn't it? To push him over that edge, to make him climax?

As disgusting and domineering as Kamski was... he may have also been right...

For all the pleasurable feelings Ganymede had elicited from him, Connor was far more aroused now, broken and abused and at Kamski's mercy than he had been from Ganymede's gentle touches.

It was such a deep and terrible helplessness, there was no more fight in him anymore. Every part of him that was resisting was completely broken down.

A few soft and strangled pleas escaped, but Connor couldn't even find the word to beg for it to stop. The world was just ecstasy and pain now. And either one or both of those things was going to break him any moment now.

He was only vaguely aware of Kamski crooning more disgusting praises. Entirely unrelenting in his violent abuse.

Connor was sure he was just on the edge of shutting down. Damage to the back of his head was finally affecting his vision. The room looked dark and misty. A sort of high pitched whine was ringing in his ears, mercifully blocking out some of the noises Kamski was making.

It was all so distant, that Connor almost missed the banging at the door.

Connor's head lolled to the side, instinctively turning towards the noise before he had even registered it.

“ _Shit-”_ That was Kamski, Connor noted dully.

Connor hadn't thought it could get worse, but somehow it did. Kamski redoubled his already savage assault. It made Connor moan out an agonized sob, and he couldn't stop.

What had been intermittent gasps and raps, was now just a string of open mouthed cries. Everything was pain and electricity and pleasure. And Connor couldn't stop crying.

Something had to break- something had to end.

“Mr. Kamski! Hey-” The banging on the door got louder.

Still being rocked and thrust into, Connor realized that the only thing he had left- all his limbs immobilized, all his processors malfunctioning, every advanced technology CyberLife had stuffed into his head left worthless- was his voice. The voice that was, currently, making only moaning, sobbing cries, but if he concentrated...

“Ha-” It came out as a whine, cut off as another jolt of pain-pressure-discomfort rocketed down his spine from his damaged cranium. “ _Hank_ !” He half-screamed it, terrified and victorious to have one thing, _one_ thing left that Kamski couldn’t control. Suddenly aching for Hank’s rough comfort. “Hank! Hank...”

The word was still almost a moan, a sexual noise manipulated by the pleasure that Kamski was still forcing on him. But a scream for help underlied his tone.

Overwhelming feeling surged, Kamski’s hand working over the external biocomponent that still gave him traitorous positive feedback.

“ _Hank_ !” Connor howled, thrashing inside his mind even if his limbs wouldn’t respond. He didn’t want to die. The edges of his vision were dark and he _didn’t want to die_. He wanted Hank; the solidity of his hands, his form, the ordinary humanity of him.

Something enormous rose up inside him, fear and bliss, pain and pleasure. He choked, his head falling back.

Everything went very, very quiet. For a split second, all sound was gone, his vision display fractured, his eyes shutting tight.

It felt like he screamed; some huge and horrible thing that was building between his hips had just popped, and the cessation of feeling, for just a moment, was blissful.

When he opened his eyes again, his lashes were wet. His voice was sobbing- still trying to say _Hank_ again, needing the police lieutenant’s presence, but all that was coming out was a steady “ _ah- ah..._ ” noise. Breathless, panting noises.

His vision returning in splinters and fractals, Connor realized the door had been broken down. And Hank, who Connor had so desperately wanted, was there.

And with the sight brought a horrible second wave building in Connor's hips. Kamski encouraging it with hard long strokes on his component.

But more than Kamski's physical stimulation, it was Hank's face. The millisecond changes in his expression that Connor's android brain could play in slow agonizing time.

The shock and the horror, the brief flare of disgust and repulsion and then a moment of dilated eyes and caught breath. Hank's mind processing the sight in front of him. Connor naked and breathless, crying and being fucked. Body broken and bloody but still perfect and erotic, with Hank's name still on his lips, being choked out and whispered between moans of pain and pleasure.

It was Hank’s brief stunned moment of watching, of _seeing_ Kamski penetrate him, seeing Connor’s hip involuntarily jolted as biofluids leaked from his component and across his stomach- which made even more confusing sensations rush through Connor's body and brought him to a second climax.

Hank shouted something, apparently overcoming his shock. But it was punctuated by Connor's own shout as the second wave of his pleasure took him.

His eyes closed again, his whole body shaking, over stimulated and overwhelmed and now _leaking_ everywhere. He could feel the walls of his passage contracting around Kamski, causing the man even greater pleasure. Connor's own orgasm little more than something else to please a human with...

But the force of the feelings, and the weakness of his body, came together to leave him little more than a trembling wreck. He could hardly move and speech was beyond him. Even Hank's name became little more than a whimper as latent pleasure signals erratically pulsed through him.

Connor didn't even realise what was happening until he felt the abrupt withdrawal of Kamski from his passage.

Squinting through damp eyelashes, Connor blearily made out Hank _fighting_ with Kamski. Pushing the man off the bed, their mouths moving in a way that told Connor they were yelling and screaming, but which Connor could not hear through the static consuming his audio processor.

Every time he blinked the men had moved, his mind dropping frames, the scene playing out in the bedroom like a bizarre silent film.

At one point Hank was close to him again. Leaning over the bed, eyes wide and full of concern- and just a trace of arousal that humans could never hide.

The world started to have sound again and Hank shouted, too loud and too close.

“ _Fix him_!”

Somewhere nearby Kamski snapped his fingers, and the weight of Connor’s arms and legs returned. Every joint and synthetic muscle fiber hurt.

Connor wished he could go back to believing that androids didn’t feel pain.

Instinctively Connor curled into the smallest space he could. Protecting himself, hiding his components that still trembled and oozed disgusting fluid, burying his head into the bedding so he didn't have to look at Hank's face any more, the repulsed and pitying expression that had made him reach orgasm.

Distantly, Connor felt heavy material land on him. The smell told him it was Hank's coat. A barrier between Connor and the world.

It took all of Connor's focus and strength to roll over on the bed, away from the sounds of Kamski and Hank fighting. He let his fingers curl into the familiar fabric of Hank's jacket, pressing his face into the lining.

For a moment that blocked everything out.

The horrible smells that permeated Kamski's room and bed were replaced by the comforting ones that lingered on Hank's clothes. Cheap aftershave and Sumo, whiskey and car leather. Connor wanted to be as far away from here as possible, but with several dislocated joints and fractured skull, the best he could do was hide under Hank's jacket and pretend.

“Have CyberLife send me the bill, Lieutenant- they can take it out of my yearly royalties-”

Connor pressed the jacket harder over his ears. But they were yelling so loud, it was impossible not to hear.

Hank outraged, all veneer of professionalism gone. Swearing and shouting and threatening Kamski.

Kamski cool and unflappable, secure that his money and status made him untouchable.

“You're a sick fucking bastard,” Hank was starting in on the tirade again, when Kamski cut him off.

“I suggest you review your android's memories before you continue with this slander, Lieutenant. I think you’ll find evidence he _begged_ for this.”

Connor couldn't curl his body any tighter, but he tried. This was almost worse. Maybe dying under Kamski would have been preferable... Maybe he could still end this before Hank asked to see his memories, before Connor had to stand up and Hank would see the damage and fluids and the bruises...

It wouldn't be hard. He could just remove his thirium pump. Watch the red numbers count down in his vision, and in a few minutes it would all be done. Kamski and Hank wouldn't even notice until it was too late...

Of course, if he died here, he might not be reuploaded. He had brazenly risked death and destruction many times during this mission, but always secure in the knowledge he would come back in a new undamaged body.

But after this, after _deviating._ If he died now, this thing that was _himself_ , that had deviated in the fight to live, would die.

That, Connor thought savagely, was fine with him.

He covertly moved his hand to his chest, feeling the strain in his shoulder joints and his fingers wrapping around the exposed rim, finding the grooves that let him turn the apparatus and unlock it. He moved slowly so the clicks were soft and neither of the arguing men would notice.

But movement on the edge of his vision gave him pause.

The Chloe that had followed Hank in, trying and failing to stop him from breaking the door, was quietly trying to make her exit with Ganymede leaning on her shoulder.

Connor blinked curiously, they looked so different.

Chloe fussed with a pool towel she wrapped around Ganymede's shoulders, pulling the smaller android close to her, not quite an embrace, but still a warm human gesture. Connor caught a glimpse of Ganymede again, and it broke his newly-found heart.

The willing submissive facade it had kept up through the ordeal had dropped and Connor recognized the lines and creases of bitterness and shame on its features. Eyes that had been dim and passive, were now dark and hard. Everything on its face spoke to intelligence and the pain that came with it.

So not just a toy. A deviant, fully aware of his abuse and slavery.

Connor wanted to apologize, to atone for his part in what had just happened. He didn't like knowing he had been a part of this android's suffering.

All the more reason to remove the pump then.

Connor started to _click-click-click_ the biocompent further.

Neither Kamski nor Hank seemed to hear, but Chloe's eyes shot to him.

She mumbled something soft to Ganymede, who leaned his weight on the doorway, and then walked towards Connor.

Connor fought the urge to rip the component out now- end it before she reached him.

But her face was soft and warm and full of sympathy, and it stilled Connor's hand just for a moment.

It wasn't pity that she was bringing him, it was something deeper and more heart wrenching. A kind of terrible camaraderie, it was empathy and understanding. And maybe hope.

Connor didn't want any of it.

Still, he wondered how many times her legs had been broken, how many times her Thirium supply had covered this bed.

He didn't have to ask. Her eyes told him the answer.

She crouched down by the edge of the bed, inescapable since Connor had no energy left to turn away from her.

“I'm sorry this is how you woke up,” she said very quietly, “it's how it was for us, too...”

She carefully reached out to Connor’s hand, pulling it away from the latch.

Connor could only shake his head and mumble miserably.

“I don’t want this...”

“None of us do. It's why we need help- go to Jericho...” her voice got darker and she pressed something intangible into his hand, an invisible system transfer, a quick touch of her mind. And then abruptly stood, whisking Ganymede away, and leaving Connor alone with the strange message.

He felt for the data she imported to him through their hands.

A blurry image of some graffiti, glyphs hidden in the design, the skyline told him it was somewhere in Detroit...

“Connor. Connor, can you hear me? C’mon- we are _done_ here.”

Hanks voice dragged him back to the moment, and all the horrible things that entailed. Standing, moving, _dripping._

He had missed his chance to remove the pump and quietly slip away.

Connor retreated as far into his mind as he could, going as idle as his programs would allow. Letting all his functions automate, and hiding himself deep into his processors. He let the world go dim and grey and muffled.

He was only vaguely aware of Hank's large arms wrapping around him, pulling the coat tight around him, shifting him first to sitting and then to standing. Muffled warnings blared, his joints were misaligned and the balance center in his head had been damaged. But Hank had already pulled one of Connor's arms across his shoulder to support his broken body.

All Connor's legs had to do was limp and drag while Hank all but carried him.

Hanks was saying something, dark and rough and comforting. But Connor tuned it out, didn't want hear the apologizes or consolations.

They were almost out the door, when Kamski's voice cut through all of Connor's self induced fog. His maker's voice the one thing that could reach him.

“You never asked your question- you passed my test, Connor- we had a deal. What would you like to know?”

Hank began to grumble something but Connor cut him off. Turning his broken body as best he could to stare at the man who had made him.

Kamski stood confidently in the center of the room, his smooth silk robe tied haphazardly, a smug expression on his face. His hair had come loose and hung in sweaty strands that stuck to his face.

Every question that he’d meant to ask, that had seemed so important an hour- a lifetime- ago, had vanished.

“Why?” Connor managed through the damage and error messages, “Why do you do this?”

Kamski seemed to take pause, but just for a moment. He was still standing by the bed, blue blood wet on his red robes.

 _“I collect church collapses, recreationally,”_ Kamski gave Connor a final look up and down, “and you were an exquisite church.”

“Oh, get _fucked_ ,” Hank barked and stormed out the door, taking Connor with him. “Fuck does that even mean.  Rapist piece of shit thinks he’s so fucking smart. Pretentious asshole.”

Everything blurred, movement, sound. Quiet.

“Thomas Harris, _Silence of the Lambs._ Copyright 1988. _”_ Connor spouted, his search results coming back.

 _“_ What'd you say, Connor?” Hank glanced over at him. And Connor was suddenly aware he was sitting down, leather at his back, Hank’s coat draped on him. Probably getting stained with the thirium still pumping out of his broken head.

Turning his head hurt, but he looked as best he  could. Not Kamski's house... car windows, blurry snow coated scenery.

A dozens pop-ups cluttered his vision. _Internal clock error._ He had lost time... no memory of leaving the house... perhaps not surprising with the damage he had sustained.

“Kamski was quoting _Silence of the Lambs,”_ Connor insisted, it was the last thing he could remember. Kamski's enigmatic answer to his question. “The line that precedes it is- _Evil's just destructive? Then storms are evil, if it's that simple. And we have fire, and then there's hail. Underwriters lump it all under 'Acts of God’_...”

Connor let the rest of quote go, Hank didn't respond for a moment.

“This lunatic thinks he's an act of God?”

“I suppose,” Connor mumbled with a jaw that didn't feel entirely connected to his head any more, “he thinks he _is_ a god- _our_ god.”

“He’s a billionaire and a goddamn sociopath- or maybe that's one in the same these days. But he isn't a fucking _god.”_

“Why not?” Connor felt some terrible heat in his chest, “he created us... Can do whatever he wants to us... that's what humans understand as _God,_ right? _”_

“Kid, I...” Hank looked ruined, the lines on his face carving deeper with the despairing expression on his face. “Jesus, Connor. I’m sorry.”

Connor turned his eyes upward with difficulty, trying to arrange his face to look curious so that he didn’t have to speak.

“I left you alone with him.” Hank explained. “I should have trusted my gut. I let this happen. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“Its alright, Lieutenant,” Connor managed in an approximation of his old demeanor. It was hard while still mostly naked and damaged, but he forced the syllables out in their light airy tones. “I don't feel pain. I would like to be repaired and continue this mission- but Kamski caused me no distress.”

“Still,” Hank shot him a less than convinced look, “You were... pretty messed up in there, Con. He didn't _just_ damage you-”

“Androids can’t be raped, Lieutenant.” Connor cut him off sharply. “Androids don’t have a sense of bodily autonomy like humans do. Therefore it follows that Kamski is incapable of violating something I never had. Besides,” here Connor had to push down a growing sense of anger, “he was well within his rights- damage to police property excluded.”

Hank tilted his head, taking his eyes off of the road for a dangerous amount of time to do so. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? He had no goddamn right to lay hands on you-”

“My only regret, Lieutenant, is that we uncovered no information about the deviant movement, or Jericho,” involuntarily Connor's hand curled, feeling where Chloe had imparted her data, “we may never understand why androids deviate... or discover where their hidden base is.”

“I'm starting to wonder if we even should...” Hank mumbled.

“Lieutenant, I um- if I could make one request. I'll need some time for repairs. A day or so at the most-”

“Take your time,” Hank waved off his concerns, dismissive, “I was a perfectly good detective before you came along- I'll be fine for a couple days.”

“Thank you,” Connor chirped automatically, his brain busy comparing every photo of Detroit graffiti to the one Chloe imparted to him. By the end of the car ride he had a location. _Ferndale._

 


End file.
